Giving away that shift was the smartest thing I have done in a loooong time. I slept in until almost 8. I had yogurt with the fruit kebabs leftover from my most excellent supper at Med Deli last night with the spousebeast for breakfast and am drinking Earl Grey from my new teapot.

I feel almost human again, which is no mean feat after the last few days. I'm going to have to sit down with Big Boss and explain that, if we continue to be grossly understaffed and I am the main muscle for assists and transfers of 250lb+ residents, I CANNOT do 7 day stretches. Uh-uh. My body needs time to heal. And something needs to be done about third shift leaving the big, combative ones in the bed or *on the floor* for me to deal with before I've even started my duties for my shift. And our slew of pregnant med techs who are too delicate to make fucking beds while I am doing the third change of epic proportions on Mr. B, who is 272lbs and no one wants to deal with because he's HIV+.

Please, Obi-Starbucks at Target, you're my only hope.

But the good stuff: I'm not there today. And I'm listening to disc 2 of the Joan Baez: Rare, Live and Classic box set that I have wanted for freaking ever and got in the most roundabout way...

Kent won the Munchkin tourney for June, with the $20 spree at the used cd store prize. We've been culling duplicates and stuff that, frankly, neither of us like from the Rock N Roll Dice Collection. We've flat run out of room, and are not really sure where we can fit another bookcase (I swear, one of these days, I'm going to dust and take pictures and give y'all a virtual tour), so we need the space. He kindly said I could take the pile of culls and put it towards stuff I wanted for me, to combat whatever wrongness he decided to squander is ill gotten gains on.

Guess who got a $25 store credit? What beats all is that most of the stuff in that pile were either "pod finds" (Kent got a bunch of stuff from the storage pods when Flying Burrito re-opened. And the previous owner was inordinately fond of really bad prog rock. And I say this as someone who *loooooves* some prog rock) or duplicates I inadvertantly got at PTA Thrift for $1 a pop.

So I actually made a profit. BWAHAHAHAH!

I got the aforementioned box set, Patti Smith's "Twelve" (which I have wanted since I found out it exists)...and generously let Kent apply my remaining $2 store credit to his purchase. :)

He was starving after our shopping and suggested Med Deli. I wasn't all that hungry, but I *do* love their cute counter staff, Copperline IPA on tap, and chicken salad wrap (the remainder of which will be lunch today--no cooking on my day off! Some days, I just want to putter in the kitchen when I have time off. Today is not that day). Kent has never met a gyro he didn't like, and it's more practical for him to get his lamb fix that way. After we ate, we browsed through the market adjacent to the deli, started making a wishlist of stuff we want to get for future cooking adventures, then dragged each other out of there before we did something *really* financially stupid.

AND, I perused the Little Free Library during our insufferably long wait for our bus (much as I love having few student free months, they really fuck us townies who rely on the buses) and found "Resistance and Beyond: Living at War, Living in America, Living at School Alternatives. A Handbook prepared by the Pittsburgh Resistance and Their Friends. April 3, 1970." Scarily, seems still relevant, and y'all know how I love these tangible ties to the activists who came before me. <3 They're always a real kick in the ass for me, and I really need that these days.

Kent kind of sighed when I bounced up with my new find. "Of COURSE that found you this week. It's officially summer. And summer in Alicialandia is for Social Justice, women's music, and dressing like a hippie."

He's not entirely wrong. I just find it funny that he tied it all together that way. Kind of makes me what he sees as the main pursuits in Alicialandia are in the other seasons. Obviously, I don't let this stuff define me, but I am always amused by his observations. He pays such close attention to things.

Which is evidently more than I do these days. I was convinced I was losing my mind, because I KNEW I had more than 3 scrub tops. I wondered if I'd left a load in the dryer at the laundromat one day when it rained (they would have let me know) or if someone had stolen them off the line (unlikely. Aside from the Summer of the Panty Thief--who has been run off--no one does that around here).

Earlier this week, I managed to get off on time, have excellent bus luck, and see Kent for a bit before he headed off for work. He said "I've been hanging things. Have you noticed?"

I started scanning the walls, trying to figure what I'd missed.

Uh...no. There, in the closet, are my scrubs. WHAT KIND OF SICK FIEND DOES THAT!?!?!?

I've been falling straight into bed and not noticing. I feel terrible. He's slowly going through all of the clothes we had to de-bedbug-ify (yet another reason to quit Happy Acres. I am NOT going though that again) and putting them back, and actually organizing the closet.

I haven't had an organized closet since high school, when I had an early curfew, a lot more time on my hands, and needed a sense of control. Since I divorced, I have pretty much lived out of laundry baskets, piles, and suitcases. It's weird.

It seems like, the more I am barely existing between work and sleep, the more Kent is thriving. I'm not sure what to make of it. I *know* he's not doing it out of guilt, because guilt is the first and quickest way to make either of us dig in our heels.

Speaking of hanging of things, I've got to figure out where to put the picture his mother sent us of him at about 5. It's one of those formal portraits people used to get of their kids (and it's black and white! Jeez, I married a geezer!), and he honestly looks like the kid who played Dennis the Menace on the old show. Would it be too obnoxious to have that in the living room along with the one of me at around the same age he recently put up?